


Magari

by JuliaBaggins



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 08:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19764469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaBaggins/pseuds/JuliaBaggins
Summary: While complaining about the pining between Ermal and Fabrizio, Marco and Andrea might realize some things themselves...





	Magari

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bernardina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bernardina/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Magari](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23198974) by [deep__house](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deep__house/pseuds/deep__house)



> I've already had this idea last year and wrote a draft, but now I decided to polish it up and post 😊
> 
> For Lisa - your enthusiasm for Montini is adorable, and I just wanna say Thank You, for being the wonderful friend that you are ❤️

Summer heat was lingering over the city like a blanket, embracing it as if it was a gentle lover, and after a concert under bright Italian stars and all the wonderful feelings that had come with it, a group of young men had found their way to the bar of the hotel they were staying in. Their hearts were still beating in ecstasy after the always glorious experience of making their music for and most importantly _with_ a crowd of enthusiastic people, and now, they shared smiles and laughs and stories. And one or the other drink, which always was a dangerous business, for secrets might be lingering threateningly close under the surface of one’s third or fourth glass of alcohol.

The evening was late already, so late that you'd rather call it night than evening, and Marco and Andrea were the only two people left at the bar. Dino had left about half an hour ago, and Ermal shortly after, though their singer hadn't been really _there_ with them for longer. He had been engaged in his phone, what an irony compared to how he liked to complain about this, and his dreamy glances had already given Marco an idea about what exactly might be so interesting about that phone. A quick glance at his own had proven him right - Marco just needed to open Instagram, and there he was: Fabrizio, his dark eyes looking into the camera, his hair messed up as if he had gotten just out of bed, his tattoos on display and a nearly shy smile on in lips. Marco sighed and wished Ermal a good night once he got up from his chair; swallowing the comment about how he should just call Fabrizio, _talk_ to the man, instead of staring at a picture of him with a lovesick gaze for ages. But then again, Marco also knew that in situations like this, it always was easier to give advice than to take it.

Marco finished his glass of wine and ordered another one the next time the waitress passed their table, and when he said the brand, Andrea had to chuckle. 

"Can you remember how Ermal told us for around 10 minutes how this is Fabrizio's favourite wine, and how he's got _such_ a good taste there?" 

"I fear I won't be able to forget that in my life", Marco answered with a smile, "and then he started complaining about his fashion sense, as usual, but if anyone but him would dare to criticize _his Bizio_ about his looks or just anything else, we could prepare ourselves to be told quite a few things."

"True", Andrea agreed, sipping at his own drink, some cocktail in a dangerous shade of orange.

After a moment of comradely silence Marco got his wine, and started to talk again, while his eyes got lost in the depths of the blood red liquid. 

"Do you think they'll _ever_ figure it out?" 

"Honestly? Somehow I doubt it. I mean, they're _so. damn. obviously._ into each other, and not just in an attraction way but more like, actually being in love, and just, how can you be so oblivious? And so bad at talking, especially if it's your _friend_??", and Andrea was moving his hands through the air, his voice telling of the suffering his friends put him and themselves through.

"Exactly!", Marco agreed, "like, what are they afraid of? Rejection? Have they got _eyes_? And even if.. wouldn't it be worth that, worth a little awkwardness?" 

"I'd think so", Andrea agreed, while his fingers started to play with a napkin on the table.

"How hard can it be?? Like, imagine, if that would be us. We'd be sitting here, and I could go like, _Hey, Andrea, I don't know if you've noticed, but I like you, as more than a friend actually, and I wonder if you'd might feel anything the like? Be interested in some kissing business maybe?_ , and then you'd either say yes and we'd get kissy or you'd say no and it would be alright. There'd be clarity, and we're friends, we could handle that. But _them_ , hrgh, it is as if Italian wouldn't have a word for communication!"

Andrea didn't answer, neither with words nor with a laugh or anything the like, and Marco's eyes searched his friend's face. The younger man was staring into his drink, and at Marco's clearing of his throat, he met his eyes. 

"Okay, but, Marco.. would you?" 

"Would I what?" 

"Be interested. In some.. kissing business."

Words left Marco as he heard this, saw the sincerity in Andrea's face. 

"Wh- What?" 

Now, Andrea did chuckle, but it sounded hollow, and wrong in all ways important. 

"See, you've been wrong. Things _can_ get awkward, so I get it, why Erm doesn't say anything", and Andrea's voice nearly was a whisper now.

"Andrea, what... What are you telling me here?" 

"Nothing", and the curly haired man nearly seemed to choke on the word, "I'm just drunk, and tired, I don't know what I'm saying." 

Andrea finished his drink in one gulp and then started to get up, all the while avoiding Marco's eyes. 

"I'll just.. go to sleep, good night Marco, see you tomorrow morning."

"Andrea, wait." 

"What is it?" 

"You do remember that we.. share a room, do you?" 

This time, Andrea's laugh was even worse, it nearly sounded hysterical. 

"Of course, how could I forget, I just don't know if you already wanna join? Or stay here a little longer? The blonde one in the red dress at the table over there has been eyeing you the whole evening, I'm sure if you'd be interested you could go over and-" 

At that, Marco stood up too, quickly placed some euro bills at the table and walked over to Andrea, took his arm. 

"Now you _really_ do sound drunk; come on, it’s late, we both could need some sleep. I'll take you to our room."

Andrea didn't try to fight it when Marco interlinked their arms, and once in their room, Marco guided Andrea to sit down at his bed. When Marco got out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, Andrea already had curled up in his blanket, his back towards Marco. And he tried not to think about that, about how he knew that Andrea usually only could sleep on his right side, or about his words earlier. Those were things to worry about in moments when he was more awake, more sober. So Marco just whispered a "Good night" before turning off the lights, and received a very soft "Sleep well, Marco" in return.

Marco hadn't been asleep for long when he woke up again, or maybe he hadn't really slept at all - all he knew was that he opened his eyes again around 3am, if the hotel room's clock was to be trusted, and when he just wondered if it would be worth it to get up for a glass of water, he noticed something.

He always had been good at paying attention to certain things, especially to rhythms, and so, Marco quickly noticed that there was something wrong with the rhythm of Andrea's breath. He wasn't asleep.

"Andrea?", Marco whispered into the darkness, and the hitch in Andrea's breath told him that he had been right, that his friend was just as asleep as he was. 

"Go back to sleep Marco." 

At that, Marco immediately sat up, because Andrea's voice sounded even more wrong than his breathing had. After peeling himself out of the surprisingly nice hotel blanket, Marco walked over to Andrea's bed on naked feet and carefully sat down at the edge of it. The only thing peeking out of the blanket were Andrea's curls, and Marco softly touched those, ran his fingers through them. In comparison to Ermal, Andrea always seemed to appreciate that, and even now, he leaned into the touch, even if it was just a bit; nearly as if he couldn’t help himself.

"Can you not sleep?" 

"No, not really", Andrea confirmed, and now Marco was sure, that his friend had been crying – it was obvious in the rough edges of his voice, and the realization caused Marco to swallow hard. 

Marco moved around, laying down at the bed which seemed to big for one person anyways next to Andrea, all the while still caressing his hair. Andrea nearly purred, and Marco could feel him relaxing, hopefully getting closer to sleep.

After a few minutes, Marco was sure that Andrea had fallen asleep, for real this time, and he planned to get back to his own bed. He really did. Only that.. it was so comfortable here, and he really was tired himself, and Andrea was so warm... And then, Andrea snuggled a little closer in his sleep, and Marco couldn't resist. Couldn't resist sneaking an arm around Andrea's middle, to hold him close, and then, he fell asleep himself.

Andrea woke up with a headache and feeling a little too warm, but nevertheless very comfortable. He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to wake up, didn't want to think.. Until he noticed something. There was an arm holding him, there was another person's breath so very close. _Oh god._ Andrea tried to lay there as unmoving as possible, to not wake the other person, and did his best to remember the previous evening. The concert of course, the bar, a lovesick Ermal, a few more drinks with.. Marco. _Oh no, please please No._ He couldn't recall his exact words, but the feelings, those were very well present. The surprise about his own words that had slipped, the fear for Marco’s reaction, the bitterness once he got his conformation, that Marco had no idea what he was talking about. The feeling of his heart shattering in his chest as if it was made of glass; rough edged splinters now cutting his body open from the inside, explaining the vague pain he felt in his chest.

Andrea couldn't remember anything later than the confusion in Marco's face after he had asked about the kissing, and Jesus, he had fucked up there. Said too much, way too much, pissed his friend off with that, and then, ended up with some stranger in a hotel room. How wonderful. Andrea sighed, deeply, and then, noticed how he got held a little tighter. The person breathing into his neck still seemed to be asleep, and Andrea tried to just.. enjoy this. Being held, feeling secure. He cursed himself for not being able to turn off his feelings here, for not being able to just get lost in the warm embrace of someone who seemed to _like_ holding him close.

Andrea moved around a little, heard something like a snore, and, out of instinct, opened his eyes. Looked down, and saw the arm that had found its way around his middle. Muscles, hairs, a nice watch. Interesting. Andrea started to turn around, slowly, and then, he fell out of the bed.

Well, firstly, he suddenly looked into a familiar face, oh so close and oh so asleep, and he realized that it was _Marco_ who had slept next to him, that it was Marco's arm around him, and that was.. a little too much for Andrea. None of those informations made _any_ sense, and he wanted to get a bit away, just to see if a little distance provided him with an opportunity that might help to clear up the huge mess in his head. And as the bed wasn't really constructed for two people, no matter how spacious it had seemed to Marco’s tired mind, that moving around ended up in Andrea falling out of the bed and onto the floor.

A loud sound of unknown nature woke Marco up, and he jerked awake. Looked around: morning light filtering through the blanks, tastefully decorated hotel room, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except for the slight effects of some alcohol that he felt, and the fact that he was laying on top of the blanket rather than underneath it. And the other bed was empty, so maybe Andrea had- _Andrea_. The moment in which the previous evening came back to Marco in bright details was also the one in which a head of curls appeared over the bed's edge, shortly followed by Andrea's face.

Andrea's eyes widened when he saw Marco looking at him, and a little awkwardly, he stood up from the floor and then sat down at the edge of the bed. 

"Are you okay?", Marco couldn't help but ask, not when Andrea had obviously fallen out of the bed. 

"Yes, I'm okay, it didn't hurt", and Andrea assumed that it was only about the falling business, nothing else, because he didn't like lying to his friends.

Marco saw how Andrea swallowed, and decided that this couldn't wait - not until they were more awake or properly dressed or less feeling the effects of the alcohol, no, he needed to say something _now_. 

"Yesterday evening, you, well, you said some things.. Do you remember this?" 

"I do", Andrea confirmed, his face looking a little paler than it had just a minute ago. 

"And did you.. actually mean that? What you said there, especially about the kissing?" 

Andrea cast his eyes down, as if he was utterly fascinated by the light blue hotel blanket, and it took him a moment to answer. 

"Maybe."

"Maybe?", Marco asked, leaning a tiny bit closer. 

"Yeah", Andrea confirmed, with a smile that was a little sad, "maybe I'd like to kiss you. And I.. I won't say sorry for that, it just is how it is I guess. But I really hope that, well, that we can make that true, what we talked about yesterday. That we can stay friends, make nothing awkward. You know? I'd really like this. "

"I wouldn't." 

"You-", and with just one word, Andrea's voice broke.

"I don't really want to stay friends, not after.. Wait. Nonono, please don't cry, I'm just shit at this and-", Marco wiped away one of the tears from Andrea's cheek, and then, he took his hand in his. Softly held it, and thought about the quickest way to get out of this mess.

With gentle fingers, Marco tilted Andrea's chin up, and looked deep into his eyes. Where, behind the uncertainty, the confusion, the fear, a little hope flickered. 

"Andrea. Maybe.. maybe I'd like to kiss you too."

"You.. would?" 

"Hmm", and before Marco was able to say more, Andrea had already leaned in, and words didn't matter anymore, nothing did, nothing but the soft lips on his.

They kept kissing for a moment, lips exploring, gentle fingers as well, a hand getting lost in Andrea's curls, and then, they leaned their foreheads against each other's. 

"Wow”, Marco whispered, amazement dripping from his voice, “Maybe we could.. do that again... some time?" 

"Maybe", Andrea confirmed, this time with a smile, and finally, it was an honest one, one that had Marco's heart beating a little faster than it already was.

Marco raised his thumb, touched the edge of Andrea's smile, and said smile turned a hint cheeky right before Andrea placed a quick kiss on Marco's fingertip. 

"Maybe I could also invite you for dinner?" 

"Yes, definitely yes. Though, Marco.. Do you think we also could make that breakfast? I'm a little hungry to be honest."

"Of course darling, let us get you some breakfast!"

And Marco started to get up from the bed, but stopped again when he saw how Andrea's eyes had widened once again. 

"Did you just.. call me darling?" 

"Oh. Yes? Was that.. too much? Too early?"

"No”, and Andrea stood up too, and stepped a little closer, until their toes nearly touched and he could link his fingers behind Marco’s neck, looking as if they were about to start a dance, “Maybe I like it, quite a lot." 

If you had asked Andrea, Marco’s smile was shining brighter than the sun in a week where the temperatures surpassed 40 degrees every day, and too beautiful for words to capture.

"Alright, _darling_. What do you think about another kiss before breakfast?" 

"Oh I certainly wouldn't mind another kiss, or three", and Andrea thought about how he certainly could get used to this before he leaned in.

It may have taken them a few more minutes to get ready for breakfast, and when they finally sat down, in a little Cafe in a side alley, Marco was holding his coffee mug with his left hand, cause his right might have been busy holding Andrea's. And maybe this could become a habit, to wake up in each other’s arms and then share lovesick glances over the breakfast table...

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are Love! ❤️


End file.
